Genim
by Midorianna Dollis
Summary: Stiles was never Robin - no, he was more like Batman. He used to be feared through the land of the supernatural as the Lone Leader - werewolf. But, being the impulsive person he is, Stiles decided that it was all very boring, so he decided to live a normal life - that is, until his best friend becomes a werewolf, dragging him back into the very world he ran from. Crack.
1. Chapter 1

Genim

by MDollis

A/N: Yo! A story to quench my author thirst, you see. Hope you enjoy! Pairings are TBC - please let me know what you want to see, blah blah blah - all that good stuff!

Enjoy, don't enjoy - but then I say, read on!

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Chapter 1: Power of a Name

Even the name would cause the hardest wolves to retreat, they said. Names are powerful things; they represent more than just the words themselves, after all. But this name, _this name_, represent not a group, not an army – nay, it was a singular force that had rocked the foundations of werewolf lore.

It was not too long ago that _the beast_ (for that is the only way to describe a whirlwind of a monster) was nothing more than a rumor – for who would believe that a bitten werewolf could be stronger than a born-wolf? And they had said that _the beast _was a rookie in their world, too. But that could never be… could it?

Of course, all rumors are built upon slivers of truth – and though most tend to false, this one proved to be true when _the beast_ started to appear before packs great and small, clearing them away like clearing through weeds. Packs feared for their existence and none stepped forward to stop _the beast. _He would appear in a whirlwind, fierce and impossible to stop, then disappear completely, the loser werewolves claimed by _the beast _and part of his pack, though they know nothing of their leader.

He was an Alpha, an Omega – the Lone Leader, they called him sometimes.

But that was not the name feared by all.

Spoken only in whispers and hushed conversations, werewolves spoke the name:

_Genim_

And Genim he was.

No one knew his appearance, nor his age – Genim was untouchable, a mystery that none dare to touch. It seemed that the Lone Leader would remain invincible forever.

Then, all of a sudden, Genim disappeared from the supernatural world. It was as if he had never existed – no one knew his location, what he did now – Genim was no more.

And so, like every civilization, the world went on. Genim became a legend, a bedtime story to scare the cubs into eating their vegetables – a being far away from reality.

But for those who had lived during the age of Genim… they remain always on their toes, looking over their shoulders, just in case the Lone Leader return again to reclaim what was his.

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Chapters _should_ be longer in the future. This is just a prologue-sey, after all. And I put "Chapter" because Chapter 1 being Chapter 2 is just a pain.

Don't review if you don't want to - Freedom of choice, after all.

MDollis


	2. Wolf Moon - Part 1

A/N: Dang, I didn't expect people to be interested in this! I'm glad. J Just a note: I'm probably going to be taking a ton of liberties, so…. yeah. There's probably going to be a lot of extra dialogue and stuff-seys that aren't in the show, so don't hate me! Anyways, I'm writing this how I'm writing this. There ya' go.

Man, I recently realized how many clues of Stiles being a werewolf is. Seriously, watch the episodes over and it's EVERYWHERE. And it makes so much sense, too. So. Much. Sense. And thus we have my conspiracy theory.

Ideas are welcomed!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything – if I did, do you think I'd be here?

Chapter 2: Wolf Moon Part 1

The foliage sure was uncomfortable; Stiles would admit that any days of the week he was climbing to the roof to see Scott. Sure, it wasn't a completely normal thing. (Okay, it was.) But this was important! It wasn't every day that good ol' Dad had a good dead body case.

His nails (_claws, monster!_) had stretched and gripped tight to the dry vines draping over Scott's porch. He readied himself, back bent and knees tight – and swung down, only to meet Scott and his bat.

"Aaaah!" both screamed in alarm.

"Stiles!" his friend yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You weren't answering your phone!" A perfectly good excused, if you asked him. "Why do you have a bat?"

Scott looked at the weapon. "I thought you were a predator!"

"A pred-" Stiles stuttered, the words far too close for comfort. (_Beast. Monster. ALPHA._) He shook his head. Scott didn't know. "Look, I know it's late but you've got the hear this. I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called – they're bringing in every officer from the beacon department and even state police."

"For what?"

And so Stiles explained the situation (dead bodies, half bodies, evilness in general) and, like always, somehow managed to drag Scott with him to see what was up. After grabbing the necessities (Scott's inhaler, jackets, extra snacks…) the two sneaked through the woods, their heavy breathing releasing visible smoke into the air.

Their footsteps were heavy on the dry leaves, crunching and crackling here and there. Stiles winced as the noises filled the air. He just hoped that they wouldn't get caught.

Well, of course things didn't work out completely like how he would have wanted because: 1. Daddy Stilinski caught him, 2. He had totally abandoned Scott, and 3. they didn't get to see a single cadaver of the body.

Oh yeah, and Scott got bit. (_By a werewolf._)

So not cool.

Stiles was glad that he was born with the useful ability to act and lie and feel little guilt afterwards. Otherwise, he'd probably be running the hell out of there like his legs were beginning him to. But hey, did any superhero defeat his villain by running away? No.

So he'd just have to suck it up and bare it.

"Hey, can I see this thing?" he asked, because it _could_ have been some other animal. (_No it wasn't._)

Scott pulled his shirt up and Stiles winced. That was so not looking good. "I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

"A wolf bit you?" Siltes asked in what he hoped was disbelief. "Are you sure it wasn't like a raccoon or something? Those things are evil, let me tell you."

"Stiles, it wasn't a raccoon. I'm pretty sure that a raccoon couldn't knock me over."

"You never know," he replied. "Could be a loose science experiment, product of a mad scientist-"

"That's more unrealistic than it being a wolf, you know."

"No it isn't. Haven't you ever watched The Curse of the Were-Rabbit?"

"No. Whatever it was, it wasn't fluffy. Or animated, for that matter."

"That's all that you know. Besides, there's no chance that it was a wolf."

Scott scoffed. "I heard a wolf howling,"

"No, you didn't." (_Unless it was a werewolf._)

"What do you mean, 'no I didn't'? How do you know what I heard?"

Stiles fake laughed in disbelief. "Because California doesn't have wolves." (_Yes, it does._) "Okay? Not in, like, sixty years." (_Liar._)

"Really?"

"Yes, really! There's no wolves in California!" (_Liar, liar!_)

Finally Scott relented of the 'wolf' thing and the topic of the body came up. Stiles breathed out in relief. There was still a chance that it wasn't a werewolf, after all. (_No way._)

The two of them continued their banter and went their way to class, hopefully, where no other surprises would show up.

Well, that was a long shot, too.

An Argent. A bloody Argent showing up in Beacon Hills High. Seriously? (_It was bound to happen.)_

And Scott was going all fanboy over her, too. (_Oh, irony. We meet again.)_

Sure, she was pretty, Allison Argent was, after all, just like the girl Scott idolized in second grade. _That _girl had brown hair, brown eyes, and a sultry smile. Not like Lydia's smile, though, but more like a "new-girl" look. Classic.

Scott never really stood a chance.

Oh, great. Now his best friend was actually drooling. Like a wolf over meat. (_No, no, no!)_

Stiles absently rubbed his nose with distress. He groaned, rubbing his head.

Well, as the saying goes: Once is chance, twice a coincidence, and three times is an enemy action.

He just hoped that third time never came.


End file.
